Stavanger Bay Just a young gun with a quick fuse.

“Aha! Aye, I’m sure it helps,” the ghostly yearling laughed and responded to the male’s first remark. It was strange for him to feel the influx of reminiscence; it washed over him like a wave before his companion’s words pulled him from the memories of their past.
 
A swift smile spread across his dark lips and the young Captain flagged his tail pleasantly. “I’m sure glad ye stumbled in. Wos beginnin’ to miss me mate,” Smokestep returned. Part of him wondered what it was that had brought Zigzag all the way from his home to the edges of the Ironsea territory. The pirate knew that plenty of answers would fall through at a later time; instead, he forced himself to focus on the fact that pirates were showing up on the borders of his claim. These were not wolves who needed to be taught how to live the life of a corsair. They were already baptized in the high seas.
 
“Right, well… I’m hopin’ yer here to join the Ironsea crew. Don’t disappoint, now…” a charming wink followed the goading remark, hoping that they could cross the barrier and move further into the pack.